Mindgames - Chapter Four
by FenrisWolf
Ferreting Out The Villains
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Disclaimer - see Chapter One
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Ducking into the room, Ginny closed the door before whipping Harry's cloak off in front of the surprised eyes of her friend. "Blaise, I need your help!"
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Blaise Zabini stared in astonishment at one of the last people she'd expected to see running around in Slytherin territory. "Ginny, are you completely out of your mind?" she hissed, rushing over and making sure the door was secured. "What if someone saw you down here?"
"I have this," Ginny shrugged, gesturing at the invisibility cloak where it shimmered across her arm. "Besides, there's something going on that's more important than me running the risk of bumping into Malfoy's Goon Squad."
"Let me guess, something to do with Scarface and The Brain?" Blaise replied drily, a small smirk dancing at the corners of her mouth.
"I wish you wouldn't call them that, even though I know you don't mean it," Ginny frowned. "If they could just get to know you like I do..."
The Slytherin girl shook her head. "We've had this talk before; you know I can't, Red, not until He's gone. Granger's all right, I'll grant you that, but making nice with the rest of your friends is just too risky. But the minute, the second I don't have to worry about Him coming after Mum and Dad I'll be there, okay?"
Blaise Zabini was something of a puzzle to much of the student population. She came from a Pureblood Wizarding family whose pedigree made the Malfoys look like jumped-up gutter trash, but she displayed none of the vicious bigotry that defined Draco and his cronies. Not that she was some kind of cute and fluffy bunny; the boys in the other houses might call her the Slytherin Centerfold (a nickname she'd picked up when a potions accident involving fabric-dissolving solution had exposed the silver serpent she had piercing her navel, which one of the Muggleborn Hufflepuffs had sworn was really a staple), but the boys in her own house had a different name for her. To them she was The Girl Most Likely To Hex Your JohnThomas Off If You Try Anything Funny, and it was a name she'd earned quite fairly.
The manner in which Ginny and she had become friends was in a way related to Blaise's Slytherin nickname, and the housemate in particular that decided its warning couldn't possibly apply to him. The youngest Weasley had been taking a shortcut between her Potions and Transfiguration classes when she'd stumbled across Malfoy and his two minions, Crabbe and Goyle, accosting Zabini. With his flunkies pinning her arms, there was nothing to prevent Draco from exploring just exactly what Blaise was hiding under her robes, an exploration he'd repeatedly stated his desire to perform with predictable lack of results.
He was so focused on figuring out how to undo the closures on his housemate's robes that he didn't notice anyone approaching from behind-at least not until a dainty foot did everything in its power to launch his family jewels into his throat. The Brute Squad were so stunned to see their master mewling in agony on the floor they let their grips slacken, a definite mistake when dealing with a witch who knew more hexes than half the DADA teachers in the past seven years. Ginny and Blaise left the writhing Malfoy and his two flobberworm companions on the corridor floor, and headed off to get acquainted.
As in times past, there are some experiences people can't share without becoming friends, and effectively castrating a ferret was one of them. The two girls who (according to tradition) should have been blood enemies instead became good friends, though secret ones. Both knew the majority of their housemates wouldn't understand how close they'd become in a short time, and besides, it was rather fun to have a secret and to sneak around behind everyone's back. As Blaise had commented in a suggestive tone she'd known would make her friend blush, it was like having a secret lover, but without the messy complications of actual sex.
Needless to say, Ginny's abrupt appearance in such a manner broke about half of their ground rules, and Blaise waited with arms crossed for her redheaded friend to explain. "This better be good," she drawled.
Ginny's description of the previous few day's events and Blaise's quick mind was able to fill in the few blanks. "Why, that little bitch," was all she said. "So, you need me to find out who Parkinson's playing stooge for? You know who it has to be, Red, she spends so much time brownnosing Draco he has to open his mouth just so she san say hi."
"That's what I think, too, but we need proof, or at the very least eyewitness testimony that the professors can confirm. Otherwise all we'll catch are flunkies. Hermione might leave it at that, but Harry? He wants someone's head on a pike above the entrance to Hogwarts, and I don't think he's too particular how it gets there."
Blaise sighed. "I thought she was going to talk to him about his people-saving thing, get him to tone it down a bit. If he spreads himself too thin he won't have anything left when the big showdown comes along."
Ginny snorted. "This is Harry, remember? I don't think 'toning it down' is in his vocabulary. Oh, he's better than he used to be, I'll give you that; two years ago he wouldn't have even considered looking beyond the person who planted that curse to whom else might be behind it, but this was Hermione, Blaise. Harry's just not very rational where she's concerned."
"True, true; wonder what it's like to have a boy care that much about you?" she mused, then shook herself and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "So you need me to find out what Parkinson's going to do with that blood of his? Wasn't that pretty foolish of him, letting her have that?"
Ginny looked uncomfortable; she actually agreed with Blaise's assessment of Harry's actions, but she couldn't admit it, even to her friend. Instead she said, "I'm sure he knows what he's doing, and even if he doesn't, Professor Dumbledore must know. Anyway, there wasn't a lot of time to set this up."
"There is that," Blaise admitted. "All right, Red, I'll go see what the slag is up to and who else is in on this little scam; ten Galleons says she's with the ferret, though."
Ginny laughed. "No takers, Blaise; my days of being a sucker were over after first year."
"Well, damn, and here I thought I'd have the money to send off that new order to Brisingamen's Secret," she smirked, heading for the door as her friend turned a bright scarlet. During one of their early sessions of 'girl talk' the subject had turned to (of course) boys, and how to render them incoherent in thirty seconds or less. Just because Blaise wasn't currently on the hunt didn't mean she neglected having a fully stocked arsenal, and the younger Gryffindor had had an eye-opening evening learning about the mysteries of satin and lace knickers and that marvel of Muggle engineering, the Wonderbra…
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Blaise sat in one of the numerous dark corners of the Slytherin common room, her peripheral vision focused on the pug-faced girl sitting by the fire. She'd returned from her encounter with Ginny to find their target fidgeting by herself, by which she surmised that Parkinson had yet to pass on her trophy.
She flipped through the pages of magazine, inwardly groaning at its contents. There were times when she enjoyed browsing through the back issues of The Dark Arts Quarterly that were always lying around the Slytherin dungeon, but once in a while it'd be nice to have a change. Her mother had subscriptions to both Occult Cookery and Alchemical Architecture, and always had a scattering of other publications for good measure; Blaise missed the diversity of subject matter. She'd even settle for a copy of Teen Witch Weekly, though the magazine's tendency to gush over all things Potter related practically guaranteed that their housemaster would incinerate any issue that caught his eye.
Her attention returned to her surroundings as the grating sound of Salazar's statue pivoting heralded someone's arrival, and Blaise silently paid herself off as the person she'd expected beckoned to Pansy before heading up the stairs. Blaise gave Parkinson a few moment's head start, and then followed her to Draco Malfoy's quarters.
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Ginny glared at the flushed face of her brother, determinedly defending her decision to involve Blaise in their efforts. "I'm a big girl, Ron, I can bloody well choose my own friends without asking your approval!"
"But…but…she's a Slytherin!" he exclaimed, his outrage at this obviously fatal character flaw evident.
"Ron, it's all right," Hermione interjected, trying to head off another sibling quarrel. She was the only other Gryffindor who knew about Ginny's friendship with Blaise, and had spent a little time with the two of them, surprised to find she actually liked the dark-haired Slytherin girl's dry sense of humor. "If Ginny trusts her, that's good enough for me," she added, giving her 'sister' her support.
When Ginny had returned and explained what she'd learned and subsequently done, the other's reactions had been mixed. Luna had merely nodded and accepted the news as if it came to no surprise at all, Hermione had looked searchingly at Ginny for a long minute before accepting her decision, and Harry had merely quirked an eyebrow at Hermione, acquiescing to her choice with a smile and a nod.
Ron had been a different matter. "Look, maybe Zabini's all you say she is, Sis, but that doesn't mean she won't screw up and let something slip. Besides, how do you know she'll even follow through on this? For all you know she could be off somewhere, sharpening her claws."
"Blaise wouldn't do that," Ginny said firmly and letting the 'claws' crack slide-for the moment. "She knows how important this is, and she won't let me down."
"But why?" Ron asked. "Why do you trust her?"
"Because she's my friend."
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Blaise glanced around before crouching down and sliding her set of Extendable Ears under the door to Malfoy's room, thinking not for the first time that the Unspeakables had lost a great pair of innovators when the Weasley twins had settled on practical jokes instead of tools for espionage as their stock in trade. Then again, the two were not mutually exclusive, as she was now demonstrating…
"…so the stupid cow still doesn't suspect a thing?" Draco was saying as the Ears started to do their work.
"No, she's still convinced I'm helping her out of 'Pureblood loyalty'. As if that would be enough to make me help a Gryffindor do anything!"
"Now, now, Pansy, that's no way to talk," Malfoy replied, his tone oily. "Who are we to stand in the way of true love, especially when we have at hands the means to make Lavender Brown's dreams come true?"
"Is it ready?" Parkinson asked excitedly.
"Almost; and now that you have acquired the last ingredient…Sangre Liquifato!" Blaise listened intently and heard three slow plops of something dropping into a liquid, followed by a boiling hiss. "Perfect," the Slytherin boy continued. There was some indeterminate noise, and the clinking of glass. "This has to sit for eight hours before it matures; after that I can draw off the required doses. Now be sure that Brown understands she has to add three drops of her own blood to the mixture before she adds it to their drinks. If she doesn't, the potion will be worthless."
"And if she does…?" Pansy breathed.
"If she does," Draco answered, his tone full of gloating, "and they both drink, than Lavender Brown and Harry Potter will be joined together…for eternity."
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